We started out this morning by failing spectacularly to capture my cat, Hilary. She sits on my lap every night, but that doesn’t mean she lets me pick her up. Our clever plan was to catch her while she was eating and put her in our dog’s crate, where she could stay until we reached Washington. My husband’s brother is due in today, and we figured we wouldn’t be seeing her once he arrived, but certainly not after our helpers get here tomorrow and start tearing the place apart.
Last time I tried to pick her up to try to treat her for fleas, I made the mistake of following my husband’s advice and trying to pick her up by her nape. I have the scars to prove how bad an idea that was. Naturally, my husband believes he could have done it. So,this morning I left it up to him. He threw a towel over her, as advised by a friend. Now he has three scars. We have put her dish in the crate in hopes we’ll walk in sometime and find her in there eating. If that doesn’t work, I don’t know what we will do.
So, on to the storage facility, where we were picking up a moving truck and clearing out our unit. That went just great except that my husband insisted on locking our unit every time we made a trip to the truck. There was literally no one else there.
On our last visit to the unit, the key broke off in the padlock. Of course, these storage people have to cut locks off all the time, luckily for us. She just brought in a saw and cut it apart. But there are still several hours left in the day. What else might happen?